


Heart of Ice

by halfabee



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfabee/pseuds/halfabee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakotay discovers that some wounds are more easily healed than others</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. THE RECORDING

**CHAPTER ONE: THE RECORDING**

 

Personal Log – Chief Helmsman Lieutenant Tom Paris

 

It’s snowing.  Again.  It started early this morning and has been coming down for about six hours now.

 

When it first started, I thought it was beautiful – majestic even.  I mean, let’s face it – it’s been a long time since I last saw real snow.  Funny how two weeks of this crap can change a guy’s perceptions.

 

Of course my lack of enthusiasm could be contributed to the fact that I’ve been trapped on this ice ball planet with Commander Chakotay – the most anal retentive individual in the Delta AND Alpha quadrants.  To top it all off – the only thing we’ve got to eat are Starfleet rations, which are only a step above leola root-flavoured rubber.

 

I bet you’re wondering how we ended up here.  I’m certain it would surprise no one to find that it was my fault.  Yup – Tom Paris screwed up again.

 

It all started when my best friend, Harry Kim detected high quantities of dilithium crystals on an ice planet in a nearby system.  It was an “L” class planet – the atmosphere was breathable, but because of the continual ice and snow and extreme cold temperatures, it was fairly uninhabitable.  Ion storms made transporters useless, so it was decided that Commander Chakotay and I would be sent down in a shuttle to do some scouting, and using transport amplifiers, transport some crystals into the shuttle’s hull for analysis back on Voyager.

 

It was supposed to be an easy mission.  There was no real reason to send the ship’s Commander and Chief Helmsman, but I think Captain Janeway was getting sick of the Commander and I trading barbs and glares.  I think she hoped that a little “together time” would help us solve all our differences. 

 

Ever heard of the saying “The road to hell is paved with good intentions”?  Never was that saying more true than when applied to our situation.  You see, the Captain didn’t really understand the animosity between Chakotay and I.  She thought it was merely a clash of personalities.  If only it were that simple.

 

Hell – when it comes to me, NOTHING is ever simple.  Chakotay still saw me as a traitor.  He still saw me as that drunken hustler he first met so long ago.  Chakotay would take great pains to let me know what a waste of life he saw me as.  Oh, he never said anything too cruel when other people were around – not even the Maquis – but when chance would bring us together alone – he’d always let me have it.  I don’t blame him.  I never have.  I guess it’s because deep down I know that everything he says about me is true.  My own Father thinks I’m nothing, and the only friend I have in the galaxy is Harry Kim – and he’s too naïve and kind-hearted to know better.

 

I’m just glad no one knows how truly pathetic I really am.  No one had guessed that all the smartass remarks, the cocky grins and all the pranks I’ve pulled on the Commander are to hide what I really feel – that it’s all designed to hide how much I admire him…how much I want him… how much I love him. 

 

Yeah – you heard right.  I love him.  Who wouldn’t?  He’s noble, a great leader, compassionate and let’s face it – he’s also drop dead gorgeous.  I know he’ll kill me if he ever finds out, so I box my love up, and keep it hidden deep within my heart, taking it out only when I’m alone in my quarters late at night and thoughts of Chakotay keep me from my rest.

 

So Janeway had no idea that such an insurmountable veritable mountain of obstacles between Chakotay and I existed, for us to ever be “friendly” with each other.

 

The flight to the ice planet began inauspiciously with the Commander snapping out orders as though I were a first year cadet, and needed to be talked through it.  Voyager went on to survey the rest of the system which consisted of an unusual amount of “M” and “L” class moons and planets, leaving us three days before the designated rendezvous.  The ice planet lay surrounded by a dense layer of asteroids, and it took all my concentration to navigate around the haphazardly strewn rock field, especially considering Chakotay was constantly berating me for not responding fast enough, or for responding too quickly.

 

Nothing I did was good enough.  For five hours the Commander got nastier and nastier.  His derision and obvious contempt hurt.  I won’t deny it.  It was all I could do to keep my mask in place and keep the tears at bay.

 

Finally, we reached the planet.  I set the shuttle into orbit, and the Commander decided where we should put down.

 

There was nothing out of the ordinary with our approach.  The ion storms were causing the expected sensor interruptions and turbulence, and the Commander kept up his litany of bitter remarks.  All of a sudden, something slammed into the hull, causing the consol in front of Chakotay and I to explode.  I felt the shrapnel from the explosion hit me – like a thousand cuts all at once, and blistering heat up my arms and face.  I struggled to keep the nose of the shuttle up, using every trick I’d ever learned or ever even heard of.

 

In the back of my mind, I registered the feeling of liquid dripping down my body, and my mind recognized it as blood in a rather detached manner.  A deep panic set in as I realised Chakotay was ominously silent and the snowy surface of the planet was getting closer and closer.  Thrusters were off line.  Hull integrity was down to 20%.  System after system was shutting down. I struggled with the controls and managed to keep the nose up slightly, and glide a bit.  It wasn’t enough to save us from a nasty landing, but it was enough to keep us from being completely crushed.  Gods, I wished these shuttles had wings!  The shuttle hit the snow with a sickening crunch, and we slid along the flat snow plane for nearly a kilometre before the shuttle shuttered to a halt.

 

I released the emergency harness and fell to my knees beside Chakotay, who had been flung against the back wall during the crash like a rag doll.  I dragged out a med-kit and ran the tricorder over Chakotay.  He had several gashes and burns, a  few broken ribs, his right arm was broken and his left leg was broken in several spots.  The injury that worried me the most was the large bump on his head, and his rather sever concussion.

 

I didn’t have a bone knitter with me, and the regenerator could only do so much.  I dealt with his burns and cuts first, then focussed on the bump on his head.  The swelling went down significantly, but he remained unconscious.  I never thought I’d be glad that I’ve had to work with the Doc, but at the moment, I think I could have kissed his holographic feet for demanding I read and be tested on all those medical journals.

 

Thankful that Chakotay was still unconscious, I set his arm and leg, and made make-shift splints for both, and wrapped his ribs.  I focussed the regenerator over his bump and over the broken bones again so that the healed muscles would help the bones set and heal properly…at least I hoped that was what would happen. 

 

When I was satisfied that I’d helped him as much as I could, I sat back and ran the medical tricorder over myself.  I had several deep cuts, more bruises than could be counted, and some bad burns on my hands and face from the consol explosion and electrical shortages during the crash.  I’d definitely faired better than Chakotay, but there was one tiny problem – I’d inadvertently drained the power on the regenerator while tending to the Commander. 

 

By this time, the shock of the crash had begun to wear off, and I became aware of my pain.  Worse yet, my burned hands had started to cramp up and hurt like hell to move.  Very slowly, and with extreme caution, I managed to use the disinfectant spray on myself and then sat back to assess the situation.

 

The shuttle was pretty thrashed, but the hull hadn’t been breached, which was a minor miracle in itself.  I stood up and began moving and clearing the debris.  After about an hour of work, the shuttle was cleaned up enough to move around safely.  I carefully dragged Chakotay to one of the bunks in the back and made sure he was comfortable and warm. 

 

Gods, I was tired, but there was too much work to do.  Hindered by my burned hands, it took me awhile to get a systems check and divert some power to environmental controls so that we wouldn’t freeze to death.

 

I hurt too much to rest, and I couldn’t use the meds on myself, as Chakotay’s injuries were far more severe, and he would need them more than I, so I settled down on the floor and started the arduous, yet consuming task of putting the main consol back together.  With a lot of luck, I’d hoped to be able to restore communications and get us off this God-forsaken ice-cube.

 

It was a couple hours later, when I heard a moan from the back of the shuttle.  I carefully stood up, wincing at the stiffness of my muscles, and limped back to check on the Commander.  I found him sitting up clutching his ribs on the bottom bunk.

 

He looked up as I entered the sleeping compartment and his eyes narrowed.  “I see you’ve managed to get us into a fine mess, yet again” he growled.

 

At first, I couldn’t believe he was blaming me, and I started to stammer out a protest, but he cut me off.  “So much for the Great Tom Paris – best pilot in the DQ.” He snarled, “I would have thought you could have managed to circumvent a few rocks, but as usual, you’ve proven just how incompetent you really are.”

 

His words flayed my heart, leaving me feeling raw, but I couldn’t help but believe what he said.  I should have noticed that stray asteroid in orbit around the planet.  I had been so absorbed on mentally patting myself on the back for landing us relatively in one piece, that I had forgotten the reason we had crashed in the first place.  I looked up at Chakotay and saw the look of hate and disgust, and I sighed in despair – Tom Paris – Fuck Up Extraordinaire had done it again.

 

“Gee Commander, all those compliments – stop or I’ll blush.”  It was lame, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances.  I reached into a compartment by the door and handed the Commander some water.  He took it without any thanks, and then gave me his patented ‘Chakotay Stare’.

 

“Report!” he barked, and unconsciously, I stood at attention and gave him a summary on the state of the systems and repairs.

 

“At least you’re doing something right!” he muttered and gave me a dismissive wave.

 

I’d love to be able to tell you that things got better after that…but I’d be lying.  The repairs went slowly and Chakotay got grumpier than ever, thanks to his injuries.  I finally was able to get communications up and running, but again my hopes of a quick rescue were dashed when the Captain told us that the storms were going to delay our rescue.  Tuvok’s cold and impersonal voice informed me that the storms could rage on for up to a month.  I felt like crying.

 

So day after day went by, and Chakotay got stronger, and his comments stung worse than ever.  I’d repaired what I could, and was finally able to let myself rest.  The problem was, while Chakotay was getting better – I was getting worse.  I’d developed a bad infection from the cuts and burns, and the med-kit was completely depleted from looking after the Commander. 

 

I have a high fever, and the infection is starting to go through my system, which leads me back to square one.  It’s still snowing.  The meal replacement bars still taste like crap…and I’m dying.  I don’t think Chakotay has noticed it yet.  He barely looks at me, and mostly prefers to sit at the front of the shuttle reading history PADDs.  Maybe it’s better this way.  I would hate to endure his pity.  At least his hate is honest.  With any luck, I’ll slip away before he knows what’s happening.  The storms above us are still raging, and there is no way Janeway will get here in time.

 

There it is – the entire story of how I, Tom Paris screwed up for the last time.  I realize this log doesn’t really conform to Starfleet ideals, but then again…neither have I.  <End Log>

 


	2. COLD REALITY

**CHAPTER TWO – COLD REALITY**

 

Chakotay was sitting at the CONN station reading a PADD on an anthropological study of the mating rites of Andorians, when something made him pause.  It was like a whisper deep in his mind telling him something was wrong.

 

He put the PADD down, and cocked his head, listening for something that could attribute to his unease.  At first when he didn’t hear anything, he felt relieved, until it dawned on him that it was the quiet that was wrong.  He knew that usually at this time, Paris would be tinkering with something or another.  The funny thing was, despite being trapped there together, he discovered he really didn’t mind.  He was grudgingly beginning to respect the young Lieutenant.  Paris had stood silently, taking every insult Chakotay could throw at him, without any protest.  Paris had also managed to repair several systems, including environmental controls and communications.  They were safe and warm and best of all, Voyager was able to send down books and vids through communications to keep their boredom minimal.

 

Chakotay carefully made his way to the rear of the shuttle, careful not to re-injure himself.  When he reached the bunks in the sleeping area of the shuttle, he felt mild irritation when he found Paris on the bottom bunk.  The Lieutenant was facing the wall, and seemed to be sound asleep.

 

With an angry growl, Chakotay poked Paris in the shoulder.  “Get your lazy ass up, Paris!! Just because we crashed, doesn’t mean you can sleep all day!”

 

When Tom didn’t move, Chakotay felt a deep dread in the pit of his stomach.  “Tom?” He gently grasped the pilot’s shoulder and rolled him over.  Chakotay drew back with a choked gasp of horror when he saw how Tom’s normally golden skin had turned a pasty grey.  Perspiration clung to Tom’s skin as he shivered, clearly under the grips of a bad fever.

 

Chakotay grabbed a medical scanner and scanned the unconscious pilot, growing steadily more anxious as he read the results.  Tom had a dangerously high fever, and would die without treatment.  His internal organs were swelling, broken ribs were making it difficult for him to breathe, and his burns were weeping, showing visual proof of the infection sweeping through his body.

 

The Commander opened the med-kit and moaned in despair as he realized all the emergency meds were depleted.  Suddenly, Chakotay remembered all the times Tom had treated him when they’d first crashed, and saw now, that Tom had saved him, while risking his own life.

 

Chakotay knew that Voyager wouldn’t be able to reach them for at least another few days.  Panic threatened to overwhelm him.  He knew Tom was dying, and the knowledge of it nearly broke his heart.  For all his blustering, he didn’t really hate the blond pilot.  It was quite the opposite.  He liked Tom…more than liked him, if the truth were told, and he’d been lying to himself for a very long time.  The problem was that he was afraid.  When Chakotay loved, he gave himself completely.  Tom’s reputation as a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of man didn’t give Chakotay much hope that he would ever be able to return his love and affections and give him the commitment he needed.  He had always been too afraid to take the risk, and now it may be too late.

 

He looked down at Tom and took a deep breath.  There was no way he was going to allow the man he loved to die on this cold planet in the middle of nowhere, and now that Tom lay there gasping for breath, Chakotay couldn’t deny his love any longer.  He ruthlessly pushed away the fear and the panic, and forced himself to start thinking like a Maquis Captain.

 

He started going through their private things looking for anything that could help.  He was half way through his own things, when he saw it, and he could have kicked himself for forgetting he had it.  It was a black leather bag, old and worn from use.  It had been a gift from his Father, one he hadn’t appreciated at the time, of course, and it held the perfectly preserved herbs from his home planet and the recipes to turn those herbs into medicines!

 

For the rest of the day, Chakotay worked at measuring, pounding herbs into powders, boiling some mixtures into teas and making others into pastes.  By the end of the day, he had managed to get the soothing paste onto all of Tom’s burns and wrapped them neatly, as well as getting him to drink several cups of tea that worked to kill the infections and bring down his fever.

 

Tom was still a long way from being well, but gradually he was slipping back from the edge.  Chakotay used the medical tricorder often to keep track of Tom’s progress, and the regular tricorder to make sure the medicines he made up would help and not hinder.

 

Chakotay was exhausted, and he eased Tom up, and slipped behind him and let Tom’s head rest in his lap.  Absently, he stroked the soft blond hair, as he wiped the Pilot’s brow with a cool, damp cloth.  He leaned down and kissed Tom’s forehead gently.  “I know I’ve never given you any reason to trust me, but I promise you that I’ll see you through this.  I’ve always let my fear get the better of me, and I’ve pushed you away with cruel, harsh words.  I promise you – by all the Spirits – if you make it through this, I will show you how much you’re loved and wanted.  I’ll gain your trust and your heart, and keep it safe for the rest of my life.”  Tom nuzzled Chakotay’s hand, and Chakotay fell asleep knowing in his heart that Tom would be okay.

 

Chakotay woke hunched over Tom.  His back was killing him, but emotionally, he’d never felt better.  He knew most would scoff at the idea of the big Maquis Captain being sappy, but he felt down-right giddy when he thought that he had finally held the man he loved all night.

 

He slipped out from under Tom, and off the bed, and quickly set about getting ready to face another day on the bleak, snowy planet.  He managed to choke down an emergency meal, and was able to wake Tom enough to get him to drink some tea.  He sat next to the bed and checked Tom’s injuries. He was happy with how much Tom had already improved, and redressed his wounds, and then sat back and watched him sleep.

 

Gradually, Chakotay become aware of a blinking light on the panel by the bunk.  It was a “message waiting” indicator light.  Chakotay tapped the panel, and was somewhat taken aback when he realized it was Tom’s log entry.  Why would Tom place a log entry into the general messages files?  He looked over at Tom, and stroked back a lock of blond hair that had fallen over his brow.  He had to know what was in that log entry.  Chakotay took a deep breath, gathering his courage.  “Computer - play waiting message.”

 

Chakotay broke into tears not long after the message began to play.  By the time he heard Tom’s voice lose the log entry, Chakotay was sobbing.  There was no denying it now.  By letting his fear get the best of him, Chakotay had brow beaten, ridiculed, insulted, and gradually dehumanized the most beautiful man he’d ever known.  He’d reduced an already insecure and life-weary man into someone who doubted even his worthiness of life itself.  Chakotay took Tom’s hands in his, and brought them to his lips.  After kissing each palm carefully, he held them to his heart and muttered “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry” over and over again, as his tears fell unchecked.  He transferred the message to his private files to make sure no one else would ever hear it, and finally, exhausted, he lay next to Tom, held him tightly, and fell asleep.

 


	3. FACING FEARS

**CHAPTER THREE – FACING FEARS**

 

Hours later, Tom woke.  At first he was extremely disorientated.  Slowly he realized he wasn’t in his bed on Voyager, and that a large, warm body was wrapped around him.  Afraid of what he might find, Tom reluctantly opened his eyes and gasped in shock when he saw it was Chakotay who was wrapped around him like a Divan III Grip Vine.

 

Suddenly Chakotay’s eyes opened, and Tom’s heart started beating in fear.  He was so tired and confused, and he didn’t have the emotional strength to shrug off another personal attack by the Commander.  “I’m s-s-sorry s-s-sir!” He stammered as he threw himself back against the hard metal of the hull, ignoring the screaming pain shooting through his body.  “I-I d-don’t know what happened s-s-sir, but it won’t happen again!”

 

Chakotay felt as though his heart were breaking as he watched Tom press against the hull while stammering apologies, waiting for the harsh condemnation he was used to getting from him.

 

It took Tom several minutes before Chakotay’s softly whispered reassurances registered in his confused mind.  What the hell was going on?  Why was Chakotay of all people being nice to him?  He opened his eyes and looked at the Commander wearily.  “Are you okay, Commander?” Tom asked, concerned that perhaps being trapped on the ice planet for so long had caused Chakotay to loose his mind.

 

Chakotay smiled and reached out and stroked Tom’s hair and let his palm linger on his cheek.  “I’m fine, Tom.  You, however, are not.  You gave me quite a scare.  Don’t do it again.”

 

“S-sorry Sir,” Tom stuttered, distracted by Chakotay’s fingers as they ran over his brow, across his cheek and down to his neck, where he stroked the soft skin with his thumb.

 

“Uhh…what’s going on here, Chakotay?” Tom asked guardedly.  Chakotay was just not acting like his usual hard-ass self.

 

Chakotay smiled at Tom and continued to stroke his hair.  “Let’s just say that after almost losing you, I came to a revelation.  We have lots of time to discuss this later, Tom.  You need to rest right now.”  Chakotay eased Tom back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.  “Go to sleep.  I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

 

The Commander’s gentleness was the straw that broke Tom’s emotional proverbial back.  He started to sob, all the pain, fear and confusion breaking through.  His body shook with the force of his sobs, his lungs burning and his ribs aching.  He was barely aware of Chakotay’s arms closing about him.  Slowly, he became conscious of Chakotay rocking him while whispering, “I’m sorry.  It’s okay, Tom.  Just let it out.  I’ve got you.”

 

Chakotay held Tom until his sobs subsided and he fell into a deep sleep.  He wiped Tom’s face with a damp cloth, erasing the tears, then lay beside the sleeping pilot, and held him close, watching over him.

 

When Tom woke the next morning, his first thought was that his memories of the night before were from a dream, or perhaps a fevered hallucination.  That theory was blown away when a strong arm pulled him tight against a strong, warm, and solid chest.  He turned his head and gazed into Chakotay’s sleepy, chocolate-brown eyes.

 

Chakotay felt the tension in Tom’s body and ran his hands soothingly over the smaller man’s chest.  “It’s okay, Tom.  I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise that I won’t hurt you again.”

 

Tom closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the warm sensation caused by the large hands running over his body.  He didn’t ever want this feeling to end.  He sighed and opened his eyes and faced Chakotay.  “Why are you doing this?  Two days ago, you couldn’t have cared less if I were blown out an airlock.  Suddenly, I’m supposed to believe you actually care?”

 

A look of pure shame crossed the Commander’s face.  “Have you ever been afraid – so afraid of something that you end up doing things you regret later because of that fear?”  He swallowed convulsively, but forced himself to continue, “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met, but I was afraid of getting hurt.  You’re young, vivacious, handsome, and you could have anyone you wanted.  I didn’t think you could ever love a boring old man like me.”  Chakotay ran his thumb over Tom’s lips softly, his eyes glowing with love and affection.  “To protect myself, I became someone I didn’t recognize – cruel and indifferent.”

 

Suddenly Chakotay pulled Tom into a tight embrace.  “Spirits, Tom, I’m sorry.  I am so sorry I hurt you.”

 

Tom allowed Chakotay to continue holding him tightly, while he struggled to come to terms with recent events.  He felt the Commander rub his chest and stomach, and warm lips brushing his temple.  He was still so very tired, and the emotional upheaval left him completely exhausted.  Gradually, the warm, soothing motion of Chakotay’s hands became too much for the pilot to resist, and he drifted off to sleep.

 

Chakotay waited until Tom was sleeping soundly, before slipping out of the bunk and heading for the cockpit of the shuttle.  He checked in with Voyager and updated them on Tom’s condition.  He sent the tricorder readings to the Doctor, and was relieved when the Doc agreed that Tom’s prognosis was good.

 

After a long chat with the Doctor concerning his homeopathic remedies, Chakotay checked the food stores.  After a lot of rummaging around, he was able to put together a make-shift stew from the different ready-to-eat emergency meals.  It tasted like hell, but had the nutrients Tom would need to recover.  He mixed Tom’s medicines, and took them and a portion of the stew back to the bunks.

 

Tom was snuggled under the covers and looked as innocent and vulnerable as a four-year-old.  Chakotay gently shook Tom awake.  “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered into Tom’s ear.

 

“Mmmm…Chak,” Tom murmured, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

 

Chakotay smiled, and stroked Tom’s face.  “Come on, Tommy – time to get up.”

 

Tom let Chakotay help him sit up and prop pillows behind him.  Chakotay hid his amused smile when Tom accepted being spoon fed with all the petulance of a small child.  Chakotay thought he’d never seen anything more adorable than Tom sitting in his bunk with the blankets pulled around him, and a pout on his lips.

 

After being fed and medicated, a very drowsy Tom allowed Chakotay to help him to the head.  Once back to his bunk, Tom was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.


	4. RECOVERY

CHAPTER FOUR – RECOVERY

The next morning, Tom woke up alone. He listened for Chakotay and heard some banging coming from the front of the shuttle. Carefully, he sat up and bit back a moan of pain. He sat still for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass, then cautiously, he stood, using the bunk as support when he found his legs dangerously weak and unsteady. Shuffling slowly, Tom made his way to the head, and relieved himself with a sigh of pleasure.

While washing his hands, Tom glanced up and winced with he saw his reflection. His skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, and his injuries stood out like neon signs. His hair hung in damp, lank clumps. With a grimace of disgust, Tom stepped into the sonic shower. He didn’t care if his limbs were shaking and he could barely stand – he needed to feel clean and human again.

It only took a few short minutes for the sonic shower to do its job, and he soon was making his way back to his bunk, where he collapsed, sheer luck having allowed him get as far as he had on his spasming muscles and shaking legs. As he sat leaning back against the hull, he thought about Chakotay. Nothing seemed to make sense. He sighed and let his head fall back, and that’s when he noticed it. The communications consul above his bunk was no longer flashing. Chakotay had listened to his recorded log.

Tom let out a snort of disgusted laughter as a lump formed in his throat. All the attention, all the gentleness – it was all because the Commander had heard his log and felt .... guilt? Pity? He had known it was too good to be true, but for a brief moment, he had actually let himself believe Chakotay could care for him.

Tom banged his head against the hull. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid…the word became a litany in his mind. All his life, he’d known he was pretty much useless and utterly unlovable. Oh, sure, people sometimes wanted him – for a night or two – but no one ever wanted to keep him. Hell, he never even had a real friend until Harry Kim, and he was still trying to figure that one out.

Time for reality again, Tom old boy. Tom wiped the tears from his eyes, and concentrated on hardening his heart again.

He had just managed to compose himself when Chakotay entered the sleeping quarters. He smiled when he saw Tom awake and cleaned up already. “Good Morning, Tom.” Chakotay said, reaching out to touch Tom’s face. Chakotay’s smile faded when Tom flinched and pulled back from his touch. 

“Commander.” Tom responded coldly.

“What’s wrong, Tom?” Chakotay asked, concerned by Tom’s standoffish attitude.

I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Sir.” Tom said, forcing his voice to be steady, despite the heart rending pain in his chest. God – why did love have to hurt so much?

Chakotay was at a loss. What had changed since the night before? What could have happened to change Tom’s attitude so drastically? He had been so sure that he and Tom had been well on the track to becoming friends, if nothing else. 

“Janeway to Chakotay.” Chakotay cursed as the Captain’s hail broke through the tense silence.

“Chakotay here – go ahead, Captain.” Chakotay replied, never breaking eye contact with Tom.

“Good news, Commander – there’s a break in the storms and we’ll be able to get you out of there. We’ll be sending down a shuttle and towing you back to Voyager. You’ll be back home within the hour.” Janeway sounded quite pleased, not realising that the Commander had very mixed emotions about going home.

“Thank-you, Captain – we’ll be ready. Chakotay out.”

As soon as communications were cut, Tom smirked. “Well Commander, looks like you’ll be free of my presence in no time at all.”

Chakotay sighed and knelt beside the bed, taking Tom’s hand. “And what if I don’t want to be free of you?”

Tom pulled his hand away from Chakotay, and angrily struggled away from the larger man.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid Chakotay?” Tom banged his hand into the steel brace of the bunk, needing to feel the external pain as much as he was hurting in his heart. “I know you listened to my log entry. Was being nice to me just part of the ‘Let’s pity Tom’ package?”

Chakotay reached out and grabbed Tom’s re-injured hand. Holding his gaze, Chakotay brought the hand up to his lips and kissed the palm. “First of all, Mr. Paris, you’re the last person I’d pity – feel compassion for, yes – but pity…never. I’ve been ‘nice’ to you because I’ve finally realized what a bastard I’ve been, and because I discovered I love you.”

Tom’s jaw dropped. “You…you love me??” he asked, completely convinced that he had to have misheard Chakotay.

Chakotay smiled and reached up and smoothed back Tom’s bangs. “Yes, Tom, I…love…you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss to Tom’s palm. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me with your heart, and I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you – in fact I’m quite certain I’ll screw up a number of times.” Slowly, and extremely carefully, Chakotay took Tom into his arms. “What I can promise is that I will love you with everything that I am. Please Tom – we can go as slowly as you want. Let me at least prove to you that I’m serious about this...about you.”

Tom stared at Chakotay for a long moment, but after seeing nothing but honesty and love in his expression, he took a deep breath and said the only thing he could say to such a heart felt plea…”Yes”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended this story the way I did because I wanted to portray a journey of sorts for Tom and Chakotay emotionally. There is hope, love and possibilities at the end, and I didn't think that this story necessarily needed me to hash it all out. I hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks for reading!


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